


burn out forever (or light up a spark)

by towokuwusatsuwu



Category: Pocket Monsters: X & Y | Pokemon X & Y Versions
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Captivity, Friendship, Genocide, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Relationship(s), Pokemon - Freeform, Rescue Missions, Teamwork, Trans Character, perfectworldshipping - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-16 10:05:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8097961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/towokuwusatsuwu/pseuds/towokuwusatsuwu
Summary: Lysandre has Professor Sycamore brought to him with the hopes the professor can bring him one step closer to his goal of eradicating all Pokemon and people who do no agree with his vision of the future. Calem and Serena round up their friends in the hopes of saving Professor Sycamore and stopping Team Flare once and for all.Augustine just wants to know where everything went so, so wrong.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dialecstatic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dialecstatic/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Augustine wakes up in what looks like a dungeon and is incredible unamused. Lysandre is, as well.

There are mistakes, and then there are _mistakes._ Professor Augustine Sycamore would like to think he knows the difference between them after so many years of studying the field of Pokémon, as well as the history that has led them to this time and this place. After all, there have been so many disastrous mistakes in the history of their world, both recent and thousands upon thousands of years ago. Most of those mistakes have been because of people, because the human race never knows when to _stop,_ and that should have been his first clue that something horrible like this was going to happen.

 

He’s cold, shivering in the chill of this stone room, his hands tied tightly behind his back, duct taped together at the wrists and again at the elbows so he has little to no movement. Another strip covers his mouth, keeping him from yelling out, not that he believes there is anyone here who would help him.

 

If he’s being honest, he isn’t even sure where _here_ is. All he remembers are the members of Team Flare and being carried out of his lab, seeing its remnants left in shambles for someone else to find.

 

He can’t begin to imagine why he was brought here, other than… No, he doesn’t want to think about that. The last person he wants to think about right now is _him,_ not at a time like this.

 

 _You used to be better than this,_ he thinks, shaking a dark strand of hair out of his eyes as he looks around the room, nearly invisible. The room is dark, so dark, with only a few candles here and there to offer any sort of light. Their glow doesn’t reach far, though, and certainly not into the darkest corners of the room. Someone or something could be watching him.

 

He should be more disquieted by it, but he doesn’t believe anything here can hurt him.

 

It’s certainly an egotistical thought to have, to believe that Lysandre would refuse to hurt him even though it’s been years since the two of them have spoken, but it’s what he believes.

 

The sound of a door opening has his head swiveling around, his eyes finding a door high above him, at the top of a set of stone steps. He was brought down here unconscious, had no idea where the door was and the candles above the stairs, snaking down the wall, are not bright enough to reveal its existence. Light pours through that entranceway, along with the soft sounds of voices speaking. He has no doubt those voices are speaking about him, of course, because what else would they be talking about by an open door? Lysandre would not hire people stupid enough to reveal anything worthwhile this close to a captive, even if they believed that captive has no way of escaping them.

 

“Stay here.” The voice is firm and Augustine’s gut clenches at the sound, his eyes widening because even though he _knows_ who leads this group, he’s still surprised to hear that voice. “I’ll see him alone.”

 

The door remains open as Lysandre’s familiar frame appears in silhouette at the top of the stairs. Augustine swallows hard and tries to sit up as straight as possible as his former friend descends the steps with slow, calculated movements that make him look so much more _menacing_ than they used to. So much about him has changed, not just his purpose in life, though Augustine supposes that’s why so much of the rest of him has changed, too. He’s become an entirely new person with a new goal in life.

 

“Augustine,” Lysandre says softly as he comes to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, “nice of you to wait.”

 

Augustine huffs softly against the duct tape, refusing to shrink back as Lysandre walks toward him. If he could, he’d tell him _exactly_ what he thought of waking up in a place like this.

 

Lysandre stops just in front of him, towering above him. “What? Can’t stand up to say hello?”

 

He can, of course, because standing without use of his arms is far too easy, but Augustine doesn’t even have a moment to twitch before Lysandre grips him by the arms and drags him to his feet, his grip worryingly tight. Much tighter, and there will be bruises in the shape of his hands; the thought sends a shiver of disgust down Augustine’s spine but he tries to remain otherwise unaffected.

 

“I apologize for keeping you waiting.” Lysandre smirks, the expression ghastly in the dim lighting.

 

His fingers find the edge of the duct tape on Augustine’s cheek, tracing over the haphazard edge, and Augustine tells himself to be prepared for it to be ripped away, that it’s going to hurt.

 

Instead, Lysandre peels it away without even so much as a rough tug. “You really _don’t_ trust me anymore.”

 

“ _Mon_ Arceus _,_ why would you think I trust you after your thugs dragged me all the way here and left me to wake up in this room?” Augustine shakes his head; the very fact Lysandre might have thought he—

 

“It was a joke. I wouldn’t expect you to trust me now.” Lysandre chuckles; Augustine fails to see what is humorous about this situation. “I didn’t tell them to leave you here. They decided on that _themselves._ ”

 

The tone of his voice suggests he isn’t exactly happy with them for making that decision, and Augustine feels more than a little relief at that. That is, of course, until Lysandre spins him around to face the wall, leaving him firmly sandwiched between the grimy stones and a man he knows better than to believe can keep him safe right now. He’s relieved when, yet again, Lysandre just picks the duct tape free without taking any of his skin with it. Duct tape can cause more damage than he wants to be dealt right now.

 

“I should have been more clear. They’ve left others down here and they had no reason to think this was anything different. Still, I thought they would have used even a modicum of intelligence.” Lysandre spins him back around, his hands heavy on Augustine’s shoulders, his eyes rapt on his face. “You look different from the last time I saw you. But still the same. Come, we have much to discuss.”

 

He tightens his grip on Augustine’s shoulder and tugs him forward, but Augustine digs his heels in and leans back, fixing the man standing in front of him with a sharp look. The last thing he plans on doing is following Lysandre anywhere, not without some answers. The obvious answers, of course, he doesn’t need. He’s heard enough about Team Flare, has seen enough of them digging around for things they absolutely should not want to be getting their hands on. The implications have been… Worrying.

 

“You don’t get to drag me here against my will and then make demands of me, _mon ami,_ you should know better than anyone that it doesn’t work that way.” Augustine rakes a hand through his rumpled hair, knowing there’s no way to fix it without a brush. “You can ask _politely_ and I’ll consider your request, but otherwise you can walk back upstairs yourself. We’ve been over this before.”

 

Augustine knows he isn’t in a place to make demands, that he has no right to tell Lysandre what to do and he has nothing up his sleeve to leverage these demands, either. Lysandre gives him a look that says just that, raising one crimson eyebrow at him as if daring him to say more… Before taking a deep breath and turning to face him once again, folding his arms across his broad chest. Lysandre has always been a big man, inhumanly so as far as Augustine has always been concerned, but he’s bigger now.

 

“My apologies, again. You haven’t changed a bit.” Lysandre closes his eyes, shakes his head, and is quiet for a moment. When he speaks again, his voice is pitched lower, surprisingly softer. “Augustine, would you mind accompanying me upstairs so we can talk somewhere a little less barbaric?”

 

Augustine huffs softly up at him but nods once, straightening out his shirt to the best of his ability and lifting his chin. “Yes,” he says, with as much poise as he can, “but you’re going to owe me a hairbrush and a fresh change of clothes. Your lackeys were not gentle in the least.”

 

Lysandre scowls, and Augustine thinks it’s at him until he speaks. “I’m starting to notice that.” He sighs, rakes a hand through his hair. “And I plan on dealing with it, too.”

 

The walk up the stairs is odd to say the least, with Lysandre insisting he walk first so there is Team Flare no matter what direction he turns. This… Dungeon, or whatever it is, isn’t exactly a sanctuary, but he somehow felt less trapped when there were not villains surrounding him.

 

There are some team members milling around the door, and a few of them look frankly shocked to see him exiting the room with Lysandre behind him. None of them speak, though, and Augustine catches the way that Lysandre’s eyes narrow at them, as if daring them to speak, daring them to make a misstep again and risk triggering his temper. He’s always had a temper, though maybe the new him is worse.

 

“We’re going to speak upstairs in my office,” Lysandre says, his tone short and suggesting he will not allow for any questions. “To put it blankly, stay out. We won’t need your company there.”

 

Augustine measures the sound of his voice, of the familiar rise and fall, and commits it to memory. If he’s going to find a way out of this situation, he’s going to have to relearn everything about Lysandre.

 

“Augustine?” Lysandre turns to face him and, impressively, offers an arm like a true gentleman. His expression is neutral, but the amusement dancing in his eyes is all too familiar. This is just a game to him. “Shall we head upstairs? I assure you that you’ll be given exactly what you asked for.”

 

The members of Team Flare around them are openly staring, and Augustine waits just a moment before exhaling softly and taking Lysandre’s arm. _Better the Devil you know,_ he supposes. And maybe a little one-on-one time will help him get a little bit closer to escaping this place.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Calem finds Professor Sycamore's lab in disarray and makes two important calls.

The interior of the lab is trashed from top to bottom and Calem takes a deep breath as he surveys the damage, taking care to step over broken glass and splintered wood, already fearing the worst the more he examines the rooms. It hardly surprises him to see the case holding the starter Pokémon Professor Sycamore usually offers is empty, but that’s the last of his worries right now. They can always rescue those Pokémon, have in the past and doubtlessly will have to again, but what worries him the most right now is that he hasn’t seen even a small sign suggesting the professor is okay.

 

Sighing softly, he pauses in the doorway of another room and twists his arm behind his back, retrieving one of his Poké Balls and tossing it toward a space of floor where there is no debris so he doesn’t risk hurting his best Pokémon. The familiar red light gives way to the shape of Delphox, who greets him with her familiar trill before looking around the room in apparent shock. She had been here not that long ago, he knows, and he imagines it must be worrying to her to see everything in this kind of shape.

 

“Delphox,” he says, drawing her attention back to him, “help me search the lab for Professor Sycamore. I haven’t found him yet, but I want a second pair of eyes to make sure I haven’t missed anything.”

 

“Del.” She nods once before turning away from him to start looking, using her psychic powers as well.

 

Calem repeats this process with all six of his Pokémon, then falls in step with them and starts searching again.

 

 _Who would do this?_ He wonders. _Who would attack Professor Sycamore’s lab like this?_

 

He has one solid guess of course: Team Flare. The gaudily-dressed villains have been causing mayhem all over the region, and while he and Serena have been doing their best to stop them, they’ve only been able to do so much. If he had known they were going to do _this,_ he would have fought harder.

 

 _Serena._ His neighbor had become one of his rivals in Kalos, and also one of his best friends. She, Shauna, Tierno, and Trevor have been nothing short of gracious and polite to him since he moved here, and he knows they would want to be made aware of what had happened here so they could help.

 

Calem rakes a hand through his hair, telling himself to take a deep breath as he pulls out his Holo Caster so he can tell them the news. Five trainers are better than one, and if Team Flare was behind this as he fears, he’s going to need all of the back-up he can get so they can find the professor.

 

It takes a moment for his call to Serena to connect and then her face is visible in its small holograph-form, looking as put-together as usual. She takes care to take care of herself on her journeys and fully believes that she owes that to her Pokémon. Calem wishes he could do the same, but he tends to spend his free time on his Pokémon alone and runs himself ragged the rest of the time. It’s just how it is.

 

 _“Calem, hi! What’s up? Where are you now?”_ Serena smiles broadly up at him and he finds himself smiling back as he leans against the wall behind him, allowing himself to take a small break so he can complete this call. His Pokémon continue looking, of course, because even if they don’t know Professor Sycamore as well as Delphox, they’re still clearly worried about him.

 

“Hi, Serena. I’m at Professor Sycamore’s lab. I told him I was going to come see him a couple of days ago, had some spare time off and I wanted him to look at my Pokémon.” Calem sweeps his eyes along the interior of the lab and sighs softly, turning the Holo Caster away from himself to show Serena what he’s already seen. “And we came here to this. We don’t know where Sycamore is. He’s not here, I don’t think.”

 

 _“What happened?”_  The passion and fire in Serena’s voice makes Calem smile a little, or at least as much as he can under circumstances like this. The five of them have grown close to the professor and he’s not the slightest bit surprised she’s this angry to see the lab in disarray. _“Did Team Flare do this? I see your Pokémon are looking around but have any of you found any clues yet?”_

 

When he turns the Holo Caster back around to face himself, Serena’s face is flushed with anger and her expression has slipped into a scowl; it’s good to see she’s just as angry about this as he is. “No, we haven’t,” he admits, shaking his head in disgust at the thought. “I still think Team Flare was behind this because who else would go to the trouble of destroying the lab and kidnapping the professor? This has Lysandre’s slimy name written all over it. We have to get the others together so we can figure out what to do. I’d say we call the police but we know they’ve had next to no luck stopping Team Flare.”

 

 _“That’s true. We’ve been better at taking them down when they start causing trouble. It really seems like they were running unchecked before we all stepped in.”_ Serena scrubs her hands over her face and Calem can feel the frustration in the movement, feels it all too well himself.

 

“I can call Tierno and Trevor if you call Shauna,” he says, “and I think our best bet is all meeting up here to decide what we want to do, if we want to split up into groups or anything, and we can pool our resources and ideas. Does that sound like a plan to you?”

 

Serena nods, and when she lifts her head, her face is determined and harsh, the Serena he knows that arises as soon as a problem makes itself known. _“Absolutely,”_ she says. _“I’ll call Shauna and then fly there. I don’t know if the others have that availability, so we’ll just have to hope they do.”_

 

“They either fly here or they can ride here, I guess.” Calem sighs and tilts his head back, staring up at the ceiling. “Or they bike here like Giratina is on their heels and slowing down means getting caught.”

 

Serena laughs at that and Calem hums softly. _“Hey, Calem? It’s going to be okay. We’ll get Professor Sycamore back. I don’t know what we’re going to have to go through to do it, but we’re going to do it. There’s no one who can stop the five of us when we put our power and friendship together.”_

 

“You’re right, absolutely. Just gotta make sure everyone gets here as soon as possible because we don’t know what they’re doing to the professor.” He swallows around a lump in his throat at the thought they might be _hurting_ him; are Team Flare capable of that? He doesn’t know. “I’ll see you soon, Serena.”

 

 _“You got it. I’ll be on my way as soon as I hang up on Shauna.”_ Serena waves at him and her image disappears from the Holo Caster, the faint light from the device dimming before it goes dark.

 

Dialing up Tierno is also a familiar ritual but Calem moves over to the edge of a desk to sit, careful not to disturb the few objects still on top of it that aren’t broken yet, relieved when both Tierno and Trevor flash to life on the Holo Caster. “I’m glad the two of you are together. It makes this easier.”

 

 _“What’s up, man?”_ Tierno is his usual self, his endless amount of energy seeming to come through the Holo Caster, but it only makes Calem feel more exhausted than he did before. _“Haven’t heard from you in a while but then we’ve all been pretty busy. You get to the Elite Four yet?”_

 

“Got there and beat them but that’s not why I’m calling you. I came to see Professor Sycamore so he could check over my progress and I found this.” He quickly turns the Holo Caster around so Tierno and Trevor can see the room, then turns it back toward himself, feeling the need to explain as much as he can as quickly as possible. “I don’t know who did this, I suspect Team Flare. Serena is calling Shauna and we’re going to meet up here and decide what to do. The professor isn’t here so I’m assuming Team Flare has him because when would he _ever_ back down from a fight with anyone?”

 

Trevor’s face pinches in concern. _“W-what can we do? Team Flare is a huge crime syndicate, aren’t they?”_

 

 _“So what? We can’t let them get away with taking the professor. He wouldn’t let them get away with doing that to us.”_ Tierno’s voice is firm and Calem smiles at the sound, quickly nodding in agreement. _“We’ll be there as soon as we can, man. Tell Serena and Shauna to wait for us.”_

 

“You got it.” Calem nods once, and they hang up around the same time.

 

He slips the Holo Caster back into his bag and pushes himself further up on the desk, eyes raking over the room for any detail he might have missed. He and his Pokémon have made their way through the entire laboratory at this point, and there has been absolutely nothing that would suggest itself to be a clue as to what happened here or why it happened. Calem can only assume that Team Flare are the perpetrators and that Lysandre demanded the professor be brought to him—but why? Lysandre hasn’t been looking for assistance in whatever his plans are prior to this, at least as far as Calem knows…

 

“Stic,” a familiar voice says, and he twists around to see his Meowstic standing just behind the desk, using his psychic to hover a piece of familiar vivid red cloth in the air.

 

“Did you find this?” Calem asks, holding his hand out and watching as the fabric is levitated closer and dropped into his palm. One glance is enough to tell him who it belongs to, and his shoulders slump.

 

“Stic.” Meowstic nods firmly and Calem smiles, patting the desk next to him.

 

“C’mere then,” he says, laughing when Meowstic levitates himself over to the desktop. “Great job.”

 

Meowstic preens under the attention and Calem lets him get situated before resting a hand on top of his head, rubbing between his ears like he likes and listening to him purr as he studies the torn piece of what is clearly Team Flare’s uniform. So they _are_ behind this after all, then.

 

The sooner his friends join him here, the better.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lysandre makes good on his promises to Augustine.

Having Augustine in his presence once again is doing things to Lysandre he did not believe possible after all of the time and distance between them. It takes absolutely all of his willpower to not use his free hand to rake through his hair in an attempt to regain some of his composure. The annoyance he felt at seeing Augustine bound and gagged in their improvised dungeon sickens him and he makes a mental note to make sure that none of his grunts do something so foolish again no matter what happens next. While he understands their assumption well, he’s still furious with them. Surely they should know better than to treat a professor like that, and was his direct command to retrieve Augustine as safely as possible not an obvious sign to all of them?

 

At least their headquarters are large enough in size that once he takes Augustine upstairs to his private quarters, the noise dies down and the two of them are left in the quiet once again. It was something to see Augustine ruffled and defiant in the light of the candles in such a dark room, but the sharp light up here has highlighted the fury in his eyes just perfectly.

 

Lysandre hasn’t lost his eye for beauty, and he stands by the thoughts he’s had that Augustine is one of the most beautiful men in the world, if not  _ the _ most. It’s hard to be unbiased where Augustine is concerned, of course, but that hasn’t changed the fact that he’s lost nothing in the years since they’ve seen each other. If anything, he only seems stronger and wiser.

 

_ Keep your head, _ he reminds himself as he leads Augustine down a long and well-walked hallway, stopping at the set of double doors at the end of it. “This is my office,” he says, fishing the key out of his pocket and pressing it into Augustine’s hand. “You may let yourself in and get comfortable. Don’t think you’ll be able to escape from here; I have grunts guarding the entire place who will catch you no matter what you do. I’ll be back with some clothes for you.”

 

Augustine curls his hand around the key into a fist and raises his chin, letting go of Lysandre’s arm when Lysandre steps away from him. “If I thought it would be that easy to escape, I already would have found a way to.” His voice is firm, determined, and Lysandre smiles at that. “I’ll be waiting for you. I assume you’ll be able to tell me why you had me dragged all the way here, too.”

 

“Of course.” Lysandre chuckles. “Any other demands you want to make of me, Augustine?”

 

“My Pokemon,” Augustine says suddenly, his head jerking up and his eyes narrowing. “I assume your people  _ also _ took them, and I want them back before anything happens to them.”

 

Lysandre sighs softly. “I suppose that they did. I’ll make sure they’re returned to you safely.”

 

The thought that his grunts had taken Augustine’s Pokemon disgusts him more than he wants to admit, but he keeps the thought to himself as he walks away, smiling at the sound of the office lock clicking and the door closing a few minutes later. The staircase up to his living quarters is hidden away behind a door in the wall to keep his grunts out of it, and he makes sure only to contact Aliana with his Holo Caster after reaching his living room. All of them  _ know _ he lives here but none of them know how to reach his room, which is how he prefers it.

 

_ “Sir.” _ She blinks at him, clear bags beneath her eyes from a lack of sleep. She’s one of the most driven members of his team, after all.  _ “What can I assist you with?” _

 

“I don’t know what you’ve done with Professor Sycamore’s Pokemon, but I want them returned to him immediately,” he says shortly. “Bring them to the office doors in ten minutes.”

 

He cuts the communication as soon as he is finished giving his message, huffing to himself at the fact he has to do it in the first place. Of course they took Augustine’s Pokemon away, as they no doubt feared a battle or feared him reaching one of the Pokemon while in the dungeon, but he doesn’t like the idea of Augustine’s Pokemon anywhere but with him. Considering the care and consideration he puts into them, after all—  _ Keep your head. You know better than to do this. _

 

By the time he’s gathered suitably clean clothes for Augustine to wear and retrieved a hairbrush as well, it’s only been a few minutes, which is good. It gives him enough time to return to the office doors before Aliana arrives so that she doesn’t see where the stairs are hidden. She looks even more harried up close, clearly in need of a shower, a good meal, and at least eight hours sleep. Lysandre bites his tongue at the command to tell her to go and get just that because he knows she won’t listen to him no matter what he says to her, and he’d rather go on to have his conversation with Augustine. The sight of the tray in her hands, bearing five Pokeballs, sends a wave of relaxation through his body. So, nothing’s happened to Augustine’s Pokemon, then.

 

“The others took them because they didn’t want him to use them,” Aliana says, flexing her fingers when Lysandre takes the tray from her. “Anything else I can do for you, sir?”

 

“Other than getting some rest, no,” Lysandre says, recognizing the twitch of annoyance at the corner of Aliana’s mouth. “Rather, send a message if you need something. No one is to interrupt.”

 

Aliana nods, already turning around to hurry back to her studies. “You’re the boss,” she calls over her shoulder, and Lysandre chuckles before turning back to the office doors and to Augustine, waiting.

 

“Your computer is password protected,” Augustine informs him as soon as he has the door closed; it surprises Lysandre not at all to see him sitting behind the large desk that houses Lysandre’s personal computer. “And all of your drawers are locked. That’s hardly fair.”

 

Lysandre shakes his head. “Of course they are. Now, I promised you your Pokemon, clothes, and  a hairbrush. There’s a bathroom through that door. You can get freshened up in there.”

 

Yet again, he is not at all surprised when Augustine collects his Pokeballs before taking the clothes and the hairbrush and disappearing into the bathroom. The room had been added so that Lysandre could work for long hours at a stretch without having to leave the room too often; it was the same reason as to why he has a small refrigerator located in the corner of the room. It’s also why he can sympathize with Aliana staying up so late and refusing to sleep for long stretches of time until her body gives her no other choice. Far be it from him to judge her too harshly when he’s changed the layout of an entire room just so he can throw himself into his work.

 

When Augustine returns to the room, his hair is neatly brushed and he’s swamped by Lysandre’s gray sweater and sweatpants. Considering Lysandre is much larger than him, it’s not like there is much he can give the other man to wear that won’t make him look small by default. His hair has been neatly brushed and he’s washed his face, and the challenge written in his beautiful stormy eyes makes Lysandre smile. So very, very little has truly changed.

 

“So,” Augustine says shortly, “what was it you wanted to discuss?”


End file.
